


a cease of fire

by orphan_account



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Ciri Intervenes, Domesticity, First Kiss, Fix-It, Geralt has feelings, Jaskier plays tough, Kidfic, Lots of dialogue, M/M, Post S1 finale, Talking On The Road
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-19 07:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22007326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Once Geralt is reunited with Ciri, he realises he misses Jaskier and he tries to bring him back to travel with him. Ciri intervenes to make it better.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 41
Kudos: 653





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I haven't read the Witcher or played the games but I've watched the TV shows, so this is what I offer!   
> I will update the Rating and the Tags as I update.

They hugged for what it seemed five minutes of Geralt's long life, but an eternity to a normal human. It felt like the missing piece of the puzzle of the witcher's life; like he became what he was to protect this little girl between his arms; like warmth. He felt things he thought couldn't be felt, just because he hadn't experienced them before, not even when he was with Yennefer. She felt so small, but she fit just right in their embrace, as it was meant to be.

“Who is Yennefer?”

* * *

They came back to Yurga's house, Ciri smiling while holding onto her protector's hand. Geralt, for the moment, felt at peace.

Goldencheeks welcomed them both and scolded Ciri for running away. The little girl said she went to pick flowers and they all forgot about what had happened. Geralt remembered he was wounded and was made to lay down on the bed of one of Yurga's sons and Goldencheeks took care of him. Ciri didn't move away from him, not even when everybody went to sleep.

“So now you know everything about me, huh?” said Geralt.

“But it's not as if I discovered it, it felt more like remembering, and not everything. It looks like, it's the most important things,” she sighed. She was thinking of Geralt being abandoned by her mother. She had always been so loved, she didn't understand why somebody would do that to that kind child of Rivia.

“Don't overthink it, Ciri.”

“You will tell me the details about everything, will you?”

“With time.”

Ciri went to sleep next to Geralt, feeling protected and undestood from the first time in... a long time. Geralt went into a deep sleep for the first time in years. They both woke up at noon.

The days went on. Ciri tended to Geralt's wound, Goldencheeks and Yurga's hospitality was infinite, and they didn't talk of sad things, they just talked a lot or none at all.

“You haven't always traveled alone, have you?”

Geralt hmmed.

“Where is he, your companion?”

Jaskier came back to his mind for the first time in days. He hadn't thought about him since he went to Cintra to get Ciri, and he felt something. It must be the effect of having Ciri close, he felt things.

“We fought.”

“You didn't like having someone along then.”

“It's not that. He bothered me.”

“Hmm. His name is Jaskier, right?”

“Yes. A bard. Maybe you would have liked his songs.”

“I do love songs.”

“I do too, sometimes.”

“I fought with my friends because they betrayed me. We were playmates for years. Did Jaskier betray you?”

_On the contrary, he was the most loyal person I've ever had next to me._

“No.”

“Did he steal from you?”

 _No_.

“What did he do exactly? Sorry if I'm nosy I just could feel you two had a good friendship but I couldn't see what broke it.”

Geralt listened to the young girl talk with an excited sensibility, not trying to push but at the same time wanting to know more. She was a charming creature.

“I had a bad day.”

Ciri stared at Geralt with those big green eyes and pursed lips. He put his hand on Geralt. “I'm sorry.”

“What is done is done.”

They parted the week after. Geralt had decided he needed to put the monster-hunting business aside for a while, while he thought what he was going to do with Ciri. She was a very fragile-looking nine years old and she trusted him wholeheartedly and followed him blindly. The witcher had enough coin to not work for a few months so he decided to look for an empty cabin in some peaceful hamlet where nobody would have heard of the White Wolf.

They had to pass through a town to get to where Geralt had in mind. The tavern where they wanted to sleep in was packed, so Ciri didn't take off her hood just in case she was recognised, for they sure were a strange looking pair.

“What can I bring you to eat?” said the waitress, a short stout woman.

“Whatever's on the menu,” answered Geralt.

“And do you want milk to drink, love?” she asked to Ciri.

“Yes, thanks ma'am.”

“I'll be here in two minutes. Won't take long, but we are busy today.”

Geralt nodded and just looked around. It was full of burly drunk men, as it was in all of the taverns of the continent, but nobody really looked at him, maybe out of fear. He expected so. Ciri just looked tranquil and traced her finger on the filthy table. She had gone through so many hardships in so little time that he just felt good sitting in a tavern, knowing nobody was going to get close to her to harm her, not with Geralt nearby. She felt proud and looked up for a second to smile to Geralt. The man almost looked like he was smiling back, but his eyes went back to scan the place.

“Okay, I'm done eating and I'll bring you a song. It's the first time I've sung it in public, it is called “Bond””.

I thought we shared a bond

mightier than a sword

but then she came along

and it was gone.

Geralt would have recognized that melancholic singing voice anywhere.

Since I met you

it was all out of a tale

full of adventures and companionship

and it's all gone.

If he was singing about what Geralt thought he was singing, it sounded more melodramatic than what Geralt remembered.

Nights under the stars

chatting until the dawn

and it's all gone because of the charm of a woman

who shut you off

from me.

_They had never done that_.

Blighted by the chaos of her will

it's all gone.

“Thank you, thank you. Please, spare some coin to your local bard. Thank you.”

Ciri touched Geralt's hand. “It's him, isn't he? Jaskier?”

Geralt grunted. What was he supposed to do? Did Jaskier see him and ignore him? He was currently talking with the waitress. He wasn't going to reach out. What is done is done.

“Aren't you going to talk to him?”

“There's no point, Ciri. I insulted him.”

“I think he remembers you fondly. Just by listening to the song.”

“It doesn't have to be about me.”

“You think so?”

Jaskier went out of the tavern and Geralt and Ciri ate and sat there for some time, until night came and Ciri became sleepy. Geralt took her to their shared room and put her to sleep, promising to come back after a while because he didn't want to sleep yet. Ciri nodded and accepted to be locked in the room for her security.

Geralt went down the stairs to the almost empty now dinning room.

“Hello, Geralt.”

He wasn't startled, but it was unexpected.

He hmmed.

“Hope you are doing well. I'm actually heading off to sleep somewhere so, yeah.”

“Wait, Jaskier.”

Jaskier turned back to look at Geralt with a serious face.

“Let's drink something before you go.”

“I'm not in the mood for drinking, thank you for the offer...”

“We need to talk.”

“Oh? Do we?”

“Come on.”

“Don't come-on me, Geralt.”

He sighed. “Please?”

“Now we are talking.”

They sat down in a corner of the tavern and it took Geralt every bit of strength to talk. About. Feelings.

“I am sorry, I shouldn't have said what I said.”

“No, I think it was the right thing. If you felt it that way.”

“I didn't.”

“And then why did you treat me like I was the shit on the sole of your boot?”

“I had had a bad day.”

“I know that very well, Geralt. Yennefer left you, but you know what? You also left me. And that hurt as much as it hurt for you that the witch left you.”

That was definitely news and the witcher was out of words. It couldn't have been the same. Looking at Jaskier speaking with a pained tone that he hadn't heard before, made him miss his happy banter and his cheerful songs about adventures that never happened _but could, Geralt, they could happen if you work towards it_. He felt (again, it had been weeks full of feelings) that it wasn't right that Jaskier felt that his loyalty wasn't reciprocated. He had a bad day, for God's sake. A witcher can't push anyone out of his life anymore?

He didn't. He loved Ciri, he loved Yennefer and... _And yet here we are_.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. Please, come back. I have a girl to raise and I don't know how to do it.”

A lot went through Jaskier's mind at that moment; a memory he wanted to forget: the moment in which Geralt had said that he didn't want him in his life anymore. He also recalled walking behind Geralt and Roach while playing his lute and asking Geralt for suggestions. And that time... Those times when he run into a beast, bandits, or something harmful, and Geralt rescued him. And that time when Geralt risked getting harmed by an unknown mage-witch because he couldn't live him to die. When he left Geralt alone on that mountain, he almost wished he had died when the djinn got inside him so the Witcher as a consequence wouldn't have met Yennefer.

He recalled the intimacy. Washing Geralt's back, brushing his hair, getting his clothes for _that_ ball, the long walks. He was asking him to come back to that life, and he was torn. Geralt _wanted_. Geralt, the Witcher, the White Wolf, who admited he didn't want anything in life, wanted him to go back. Was it pity? He couldn't hear it in the man's voice. Was he being deceived? The only thing he knew is that he didn't want his heart to be broken again.

“Why me? As I recall, I only bring you disgrace? Don't look at me like that, I want to hear you talk, not just sorries and excuses.”

“Jaskier...”

Jaskier crossed his arms. He knew he wasn't going to get any satisfactory answer from him because it was too big of an effort to make him spit more than a sentence. But he had all night.

Geralt sat down and run the hand over his face.

“I want you to come back. I don't like walking around anymore on my own.”

“You just said you've got the child of surprise with you.”

“She's a child. You're... sensitive and people like you. She likes songs. And I...”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow.

“I think your songs aren't that bad.”

“I think it's more than that, my Geralt of Rivia. I'm not satisfied, but we will talk in the morning. You have all night to think of a better apology, but for tonight, I'll take my leave because I need to think about this... proposal. Good night.”

“Good night,” answered Geralt in a hushed voice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Aedirnian's wife song is basically the Dornishman's wife from ASOIAF :)

Morning came and Jaskier found himself brushing Roach – he had slept in the stables – and talking to the horse as he waited for a certaing somebody to come out of the inn.

“If he meant to wrong me you'd let me know, right girl? I trust you more than I trust him because I know where your heart is but him... Oh well, you know, today he asks me to come with him and tomorrow a crazy witch can break his heart again and he'd say it's my fault when it's clearly not! Witchers don't feel my balls.”

Roach huffed.

“Oh, sorry, language. But I am right aren't I? He would have abandoned you as well if a pretty woman tells him to, and you and I would have to find our own adventures together, going from town to town. I'd learn to do some juggling on top of a horse while I sing, that has to bring coin. See? You are already wanting to leave that smelly man to come with me.”

The door of the inn opened and Geralt came out, and a little girl with a hood was holding his hand. Jaskier put the brush down and walked towards them with a fake serious face until he saw her. She looked at the bard with a curious trusting and partly amused face.

“Mm, hello, I'm Jaskier, and you must be the child surprise.”

“Ciri”. She shook his hand. Jaskier smiled and shook back, holding her hand between his. “A pleasure, princess. I'm sorry you have to endure this ogre.”

“Why would you say that?” she asked.

“Come on, let's walk,” ordered Geralt. He let Ciri mount Roach and told her to ride before them.

“Geralt, I still haven't accepted to come with you, I'm not leaving-”

“Don't be bothersome, we'll walk you to the next town if you don't want to come with us.”

“But we are talking!”

“Yes, if we must...”

“Right, let's go.”

They left the town with Ciri riding before Geralt, and Jaskier two steps behind – as always. As soon as they entered the forest, Jaskier caught up with Ciri because he suspected that Geralt would try to

interrupt them if Jaskier said something far from proper and then he'd have to talk for real.

“Ciri, dear-”

“Will you sing us a song? Geralt said you were a great singer and I've been wanting to listen to you. It's been long since I heard a ballad.”

“Oh, did Geralt say I was a _great_ singer?”

Geralt just hmmed and looked away. That confirmed it.

“Okay, a short one. It's called the Aedirnian's wife."

_The Aedirnian's wife was as fair as the sun_

_and her kisses were warmer than spring._

_But the Aedirnian's blade was made of black steel_

_and its kiss was a terrible thing._

_..._

Ciri gave an applause and Jaskier courtsied. "Thank you, thank you. I always love a good public during a walk through the forest. Haven't been appreaciated enough, have I, Geralt?"

"It's not really the best place to start singing."

"But you said you missed my chattering, dear witcher. Don't lie in front of the princess."

"Jaskier, one thing," whispered Ciri. "When we are in front of others, can you call me Fiona? Geralt thinks it best."

"Sure. Whatever our intelligent witcher wants. Which reminds me of another song you should know. _When a humbled bard graced a ride along with Geralt of Rivia...._

After many songs, maybe too many in Geralt's opinion, they stopped in a clearing. Geralt went to find anything to eat and begged Ciri to stay quiet and to ride away with Roach if something happened.

"You are just going away for five minutes, don't be an overbearing father," mocked Jaskier.

Geralt glared at him and left, not without a last look to the child. The girl then laid down on the grass and smiled to Jaskier.

"I really like your songs, I'm glad Geralt is your friend."

"That's... more than I knew. You know why I am coming along, don't you, smart girl."

"Because you need to make peace."

"You know what happened."

"He just told me that he got angry and told you to go away."

"It's basically that, damned him. Because when he has too many feelings inside, he doesn't know how to manage and I was the nearest person and he had to kick me. Are you sure this conversation is good to have with a girl your age? How old are you anyway?"

"I'm nine but you don't have to worry. I... I heard many things when I was with my friends. And my grandmother."

"Oh, don't be sad, beautiful." He kissed the top of her hoodie. "I mean, you can, same as I am because Geralt is stupid. But Geralt is going to protect you and he is not nearly bad at doing that. I know from experience."

"Yeah, you said it in your song evem though he told me a slightly different version."

"Little Ciri, what I sing about is what history will remember. And isn't it beautiful?"

"It sure is. Why don't you write a song to tell him about how you feel?"

"He knows clearly well how I feel, but I need his version. I will write a song mixing both versions later. The epic doomed relationship of the White Wolf and the Beautiful Bard.”

Geralt came back. “Ciri, can you wash...”

Ciri rose from the ground and walked away with two rabbits and a bucket with water before Geralt finished the phrase. Neither of them was surprised by this, but Jaskier was only noticing now that they read each other.

“That was magnificent, Geralt,” he whispered, “does she has powers as well?”

“It's complicated.”

“Tell me!”

“No.”

“Will you speak to me about _anything_?”

Geralt tightened his jaw and stared at Jaskier. How to explain it without having the bard misinterpret it? He missed him, he loved his company, he was fun to have around, Roach liked him, Ciri seemed to agree, he... did too.

“Come.” Geralt grabbed Jaskier's hand and dragged him along to the forest, not without telling Ciri to wait for a second and to scream if something happened.

“Geralt, what are you doing?”

They got to the river, out of Ciri's eyes' reach. Geralt closed his eyes and sighed and Jaskier waited anxiously. Then the witcher cupped the bard's face between his rough hand and kissed him. Just for a second. Worst kiss of both's lives, but a kiss nonetheless. Geralt started walking away back to the camp and Jaskier stood there with his mouth open and feeling a funny sensation inside his brain.

“Wait, wait, you can't leave me like this, what does that mean?”

Geralt didn't look back while he was being pursued. “Pretty self-explanatory.”

“You'll have to elaborate on that because I didn't really catch the meaning, witcher. You can't just ki-”

“Ssh. Fuck. I want you around, I like you, you like me, we are fine, come with us.”

“Oh. That. You like me. It was clear that I liked you, it was... pretty much obvious but the nature of it... But you don't show it, Geralt, you really should... Geralt? Where are you?”

Geralt was cooking the rabbits and Ciri was beaming by his side and she beamed still when Jaskier appeared from behind a tree with a dishevelled hair and a confused face. He sat down next to Ciri and just looked at the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope Geralt explains himself even better in the coming chapter.  
> Leave comments!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, I am studying for my finals. I hope you like it.

As far as everyone knew, Jaskier fell asleep quickly and deeply and close to the fire, but tonight it wasn't that type of night. He was sitting against tree, farther than what was advisable from the fire, with his eyes lost in the sky and a silent lute in his hands.  
Geralt was too smart to think Jaskier would stay with him only because he had kissed him. The Witcher admitted that he knew Jaskier liked him, but it was more than wanting for a kiss, though he didn't know the nature of this liking himself. He found Geralt handsome, charming in his own way, the key to tales of adventure and romance, and kindhearted. But Geralt hadn't said yet what he liked about him, only that he likes him. And then kissed him. Did Geralt like men, first of all? Because nobody that doesn't kisses their friends of the opposite sex, although Jaskier thought it would be a more beautiful world if that was indeed a thing. And quite confusing but nevermind that. Why did Geralt have to exasperate him in that precise moment, when usually it was the opposite. It was so out of character that the option that he was being controlled by an evil mage passed through his mind, but Ciri interacted with him as if everything was normal, so he put that idea aside.  
He was out of any supposition. And as Jaskier didn't get to any conclusion, Geralt opened his eyes and glanced at the pensive bard. He knew what was going on inside his head. It wasn't his problem that Jaskier didn't catch what he meant. A kiss could mean many things but all of them positive most of the time, so if he didn't understand it, he wasn't going to give a clarification.

Morning came and they started to pack everything to continue the journey towards the next town. Ciri glanced at Jaskier and Geralt. The bard looked tense, the witcher looked like he always did but Ciri could tell something had changed since yesterday and she was becoming impatient. She threw her bag to the ground and asked Jaskier to come closer. The bard hesitated when he saw the serious look that Geralt gave to the girl but he obeyed.

“Something wrong, princess?”

“I have lost many friends since I left Cintra. Some I left back there, others I lost them on the road, and it doesn't feel right to see you two wanting to lose each other when it doesn't have to be like that.”

“Ciri...” said Geralt.

“Don't Ciri me, I can see you wondering and wondering why Jaskier is still mad.”

Geralt sighed, exhasperated, and was going to talk when Jaskier interrupted.

“She's right, Geralt. I am still mad. You can't just kiss me and say you like me but you don't show it. You made your choices, don't blame me for your sad life, because you've got Ciri as a consequence of everything,” _even if you claimed the law of surprise as a joke_ , “and is not that the best thing that has happened to you? Am I not owed a _thank you, Jaskier, you only bring me adventures, songs, and a lovely opinionated girl to raise_? I deserve more than a cold kiss.”

Ciri covered her mouth with her hands when she heard about the kiss, hiding a smile. A breeze moved the leaves around Jaskier and he just waited for an answer with his arms up in the air.

“You're fucking right,” answered Geralt.

“Beg you pardon? That's new.”

“Don't test me. I made my choices a long time ago and I got Ciri thanks to you, Jaskier.” He cleared his throat. “I'll be happy to continue saving your ass and hearing your stupid-”

“Excuse me?”

“-and beautiful songs if you want to come with us.”

“He will be very happy if you do,” added Ciri.

“Come here,” said Geralt.

“Are you going to punch me?”

“You won't know unless you come here.”

Jaskier grinned and did so, and was received by a hug by Geralt. Shorter than he would have wished, and with a pat on the back, but for now, it was better than nothing.

“Will you come with us, old friend?”

Ciri apporached and grabbed Jaskier's hand.

“Okay, if you two insist, I am nothing if not a pleaser.”

They stopped a the town at the end of the road to eat and earn a few coins thanks to Jaskier's songs, but that was it. On their way out, Geralt explained that there was a cabin near the town but in an out-of-the-way clearing. He had discovered it because he had to kill a bruxa living in the forest who was hiding inside.

“What a cheery place,” commented Jaskier.

“It will be fine.”

But it wasn't fine.

“This is the dustier house I've been in, Geralt, and I've been in places! And the roof leaks.”

“Are we going to be living here?”

At the sound of Ciri's tone Geralt hmmed. “For a while. We'll sleep outside tonight but we'll start cleaning today.”

“I never thought I'd see the day where Geralt de Rivia cares about cleaning.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, okay, there's no time for threats, dear Witcher. Come on Ciri, let's explore the wonders of this wooden palace.” Jaskier reached for Ciri's hand and the girl gladly followed with a cheerful walk.

The house _creaked_ everywhere _._ It was furnished, that was a plus, but when Jaskier opened a wardrobe and saw dozens of moths leave a pile of originally-white yellow sheets, and Ciri pointed at a rat eating the leg of a chair... Well, they assumed the house hadn't been habited for one hundred years.

Geralt sat outside to sharpen the tools required to fix everything. He had found an axe, a hammer, rusty nails, and a saw, but also some bloody knives and a broom that had seen better days. He took out the stone he used to sharpen his sword, sighed, and started working while he heard the rustle and bustle inside.

Jaskier had his hand on his hips while he inspected a pile on fabric that they had placed on top of the kitchen table. “If we were in a different situation, I would set fire to these but...”

“You can sew?” asked Ciri.

“Of course I do, who do you think I am?" He skipped three octaves. "A bard can't go around the world in rags, I have to fix my own clothes most of the time, if some beautiful lady doesn't volunteer to do it. Can you, princess?”

“Yeah, but I hate it.”

“I hate running into horrible ugly smelly monsters everyday, but hey, it's a source of inspiration for my songs. Aaand if we sew this ugly fabrics and turn them into decent sheets – not before having washed them –, we will be able to sleep without having the fleas attack us at night. Or at least, a smaller number of them. Get it?”

With a snort of amusement, Ciri nodded. They found an old washboard and Jaskier, reluctantly, fetched his personal soap and gave it to the cause of washing everything. They would have to get lye at some point.

They sat on the backyard of the house and, to be honest, Jaskier did most of the washing because Ciri didn't have enough strength to scrub the clothes against the washboard in the bucket. Ciri went to ask Geralt if he had anything that needed washing, and when Ciri came back to the bard saying he had replied in negative, Geralt heard a shout: “ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT, WITCHER? BECAUSE I AM NOT.” Still, Geralt didn't give them any more work, which they had for two hours, during which they chatted.

“Ah, what happened to the glamorous life of a bard? Here I am, deep in dust, with my fist red from rubbing, and all because-”

“Because you forgave Geralt.”

“What do you know, eh.”

“Or you haven't?”

“It's complicated, you know. I complain now, and I complain when I have to sleep on the ground and when monsters attack us, and when we find ourselves in the middle of a conspiracy, and... Well, you see my point. But I...”

“You like being with Geralt.”

Jaskier stopped the rubbing and tilted his head over to look at the girl, whose wise young eyes were bright and full of confidence.

“Oh well. It is what it is, he is my muse,” he answered with an exaggerated tone. “The most exciting witcher in all the kingdoms of the continent. Probably the only one with enough patience to endure me, which is a very valuable quality that I choose in my friends.”

Ciri lowered her voice. “And because he asked you, as well?”

“Yes,” he added softly, “he asked me to come as well. Aren't you happy? I tell you, being alone with a brooding guy like him sometimes gets tiring. Unless you ignore it, which is what I do.”

“If I,” replied Ciri, “didn't know you were best friends I'd tell you to stop being mean.”

In that instant, Geralt came out of the back door, holding a bucket with a dead duck inside. “I caught this by the river. For dinner. Are you okay, Ciri?”

Jaskier arched an eyebrow. “Of course she is?" We were just talking about you, dear...”

“Please, let me be ignorant.” He walked back inside, leaving Jaskier hanging.

Later, Jaskier cooked the duck with some peppermint that grew outside the house. He muttered something about being a good housewife while he did. The sheets weren't dry yet, but they had swept the floors of the upper rooms and they could sleep on the floor. They were in peace, or almost. Jaskier's brain was restless, like the day before and the day prior to that. That ugly, unsavoury kiss was still lingering in his thoughts. He'd ask once they were alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos help!


	4. Chapter 4

At the end of the week, the house, erm, habitable. They were finally able to sleep in bed, with mattress filled with hay, a fire in most rooms, and an actual bathroom – they bought an used wooden bathtub that Geralt fixed and Ciri and Jaskier cleaned. It could be a home, for some time. Geralt slept in the same room that Ciri did, for security reasons.

“But if something happens I can defend myself better than Jaskier!” commented Ciri. Geralt gave no comment, those would be the sleeping arrangements for the moment.

“But if you hear me strumming my lute at midnight, you have no right to complain because we aren't in the same room, Geralt,” added Jaskier.

“Try me.”

Jaskier went to town to earn some coin. The truth was that he needed to play for a public every now and then, because Ciri and Geralt were no public. Ciri liked everything that he did and the witcher claim to not have an opinion or spat a mean comment that the bard knew wasn't true but just for the sake of shocking Jaskier, he said such things. He kept asking, though. So Geralt and Ciri would be on their own for a day and a half again.

Ciri knew how to spar with a sword and shoot with an arrow; any princess of Cintra had to be educated in all matters: war, literature, rhetoric, sewing, horse-riding... Because she would find herself in all kind of situations through her life. Ciri admitted that she had her preferences but her tutors had no reason to complain about her for she was diligent. She had always wanted to make her grandmother proud. And this time, when she was sparring with Geralt in front of the house, she showed her that although her technique wasn't perfect, she wasn't a defenseless little girl. To her disgrace, she had found herself without any sword or arrow when she run away from Cintra, but she did her best.

“Your feet, Ciri!”

“I must have the right in front of the left only if my opponent is my height or shorter! You are taller!”

“It does not matter. Now, I'll step forward and when I try to put the sword on your shoulder, block it and turn around until you are on my side and point to me with the end of the sword.”

Ciri did so but she wasn't quick enough and Geralt turned before her, pushing Ciri's sword and making her fall on her back. He helped her get up.

“You still need to be faster than me.”

“It's the sword, it's too heavy. I had a rapier back home.

“Hmmm.” He would need to get her a proper sword, she couldn't train with his for much longer. “Pick the arrow, Ciri.”

Geralt turned towards a tree to look for a good target for Ciri to shoot to but he was surprised with a little girl jumping to his back and hiding her face on her neck. “I'm tired, we've been practicing for three hours...”

Geralt stood there, his hands on Ciri's, around his neck. She had her small face next to his cheek – that he needed to shave – and he could feel the tickling of her blonde eyelashes and the humming of her voice and the heat of her small body, clinging to him like a small, _dangerous_ , loving animal, like a cub on the back of their fa...

Geralt pulls back his lips and turns to Ciri. “Okay. Let's ride Roach around, does that work for you?”

One of the things that Geralt had learnt from Ciri was braiding the hair. Another was feeling an absolute blind love towards the little girl, but mainly braiding. It was more difficult than he thought. He had never bothered much with his long hair, but he could see the use: he should start wearing his hair in a braid when he had to fight something or somebody and for starters, it wouldn't get in his face all the time, and secondly, he wouldn't get the same amount of comments about its filthiness. He braided Ciri's hair and made her put on a hood, so nobody would see the shining mane and recognize her. Ciri sat in front of Geralt and took the reins.

They rode along the main road towards the town. She hummed a song, one of Jaskier's, who had earned the title of Ciri's favourite bard, and she had heard a lot of them in court. Jaskier courtsied to her in that moment. “An honor, your highness.”

“You don't like to sing?”

“No.”

“We think your voice is so deep that it could sound nice, don't you think?”

He supposed _we_ meant Jaskier and her.

“I have never tried.”

Roach shook her head. _She knew_. Ciri hmmed with a smile. She knew some things as well.

They got to the town market half an hour later. Ciri insisted in buying soap and a scented oil for Jaskier, since he had given his personal soap to the common cause of washing everything. Ciri wanted that, Geralt did it. It costed many coins but it was like that. They bough lye and some vegetables that he absolutely didn't knew how to cook but Ciri said she knew and her intuition said Jaskier did as well.

“You never eat vegetables?”

Geralt shrugged.

Next, they went to the tavern. From the window, they saw Jaskier talking with a guitarist. He raised his head to see Ciri saying hello from the window and Geralt looking... like he did. He smiled at them and gestured them to come inside. They sat in a corner, as usual.

“Oh, so, hello everybody. You look very charming this afternoon if I must say so.” Jaskier winked at somebody in the crowd. “I am about to play a song for a very special person whom I've gotten to know recently but I adore. It's a sad song. But after darkness, come dawn-”

“Start playing, bard.”

“- _aaaand_ that means that despite everything bad that happens to us, you will always have friends to back you. Anyway, I won't play my lute, I will limit to sing, accompanied by this guitar.”

He took a deep breath and the guitar started playing.

_High in the halls of the kings who are gone_

_Fiona would dance with her ghosts_

_The ones she had lost and the ones she had found_

_And the ones who had loved her the most_

_The ones who'd been gone for so very long  
She couldn't remember their names  
They spun her around on the damp old stone  
Spun away all her sorrow and pain_

A tear travelled through Ciri's cheek, and it was only then that Geralt noticed who was the Fiona from the song. Even so, she kept listening to the song with an undreadable face.

  
_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave  
Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave._

_[…]_

The song ended and despite some whimpers, the room was silent.

“Thank you,” said Jaskier, and when he bowed, the room started applauding. He had to bow three times more until they stopped applauding.

Ciri was applauding too. And crying.

Jaskier cames towards them and he stopped when she saw Ciri crying. He knelt in front of her and cupped her face with his hands, cleaning away the tears with his thumbs.

“Hey, why are you crying, you didn't like the song?”

Ciri stood up and hugged Jaskier, sobbing into his neck. Jaskier put his arms around them and whispered some intelligible words into her ear, while Geralt watched from his seat. Was he mad about Jaskier making Ciri cried? Yes. Was he glad to see Ciri expressing what she felt about Cintra for the first time since they had met considering that the two times he had asked her she had prefered not to talk about it? Yes.

Jaskier locked eyes with Geralt while still embracing the girl, but neither said nothing.

The bard stayed with them while drinking a cup of ale and chatting with Ciri about how to cook vegetables, until he had to rise to play another song.

“It's time we go,” said Geralt.

“Okay, we'll see each other tomorrow then. Take care of him, princess” he whispered to Ciri, and kissed her forehead glancing at Geralt. “Bye bye.”

Jaskier really was something, thought Geralt. In a very small time, he had won Ciri's love and expressed his affection without trouble, while he blocked every time Ciri hugged her, and when she kissed his cheek, and when at night she asks him to talk about his adventures but he doesn't have anything happy to tell. But then, Jaskier had tried the same with him: to win the witcher's friendship. Many times he had pushed him, the more times he tried. He was relentless when he decided to give love, or so he bragged. But witchers can't aspire to that, can they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is obviously Jenny of Oldstones from Game of Thrones. I hope you like this chapter in which we see more of Ciri. I hope I'm making her justice. Jaskier will come back in next chapter and we'll have interacion between our two main men. Leave kudos, comments and stuff. My tumblr is euryalus.tumblr.com in case you want to yell at me for my bad writing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small chapter to make you know I'm alive! I'm finishing my exams, and I want to make them *kiss* but I need more inspiration. Hope y'all are alright and enjoy this small chapter.

“Phew!” sighed Jaskier, letting his body fall on top of the bed, the lute at his side. He had worked very hard during that pair of days to earn some coins – which he did, owing it mostly to his new song and, of course, “toss a coin to the witcher”. Ciri lied down next to him and soon started asking how he was, and Jaskier gladly turned to her and spoke about a fight of smelly men that had stolen each other's fried chicken.

“Talking of chickens, that's what we have for dinner,” said Geralt, standing by the door, watching the _tender_ scene.

Jaskier nodded. “Did people like _my_ song?” whispered Ciri, with a secret shine in her eyes.

Jaskier gently put a strand of Ciri's hair that was on her face behind her ear. “Very much.” Ciri smiled back and Jaskier felt his heart burst with an unknown feeling. “Can I hug you, princess?” Ciri's response was hugging him with all the strength a small girl can. Jaskier appreciated. Geralt, who had come to call them to lunch again, saw it all and quickly without saying anything.

The day passed quietly and with a strange warm feeling in the air. Jaskier mostly spent it sitting in the kitchen-dinning room-lounge with Ciri and Geralt, who came and go. Ciri was chattier, both with him and Geralt, whom he talked about training more – apparently they had been training in his absence. The witcher, the man known as practical, had carved their wooden plates with a rivian pattern that looked like vegetation. Creativity! He had it in his blood! Was it to make Ciri feel like home? Jaskier started to realize how little Geralt expressed with words, and the volumes that his actions spoke. He was fixing the whole house – did they teach carpentry at _witcher school_? He wondered. Ciri walked around, almost hypnotized, like a puppy, passing him tools and asking about how to do certain things.

“I don't want anybody needing me,” he had said once.

“And yet here we are,” he had said too. That was then. Now Geralt seemed like he wanted to make a space for Ciri, and maybe Jaskier since he begged him to come along, in his life, building a house. It seemed out of a tale, a poor man making a house for his beloved with his hands. Where was the butcher of Blaviken? This man seemed mortal, almost seeking a domesticity, undergoing a personality shift, and Jaskier didn't know what to make of it. In his mind, Geralt was a man out of reach for mortals like him, and that's why the only way to approach him was through his songs. But current Geralt wasn't an epic hero of a song, he was acting like he wouldn't have moved out of this small house never in his life, like he found a place. Oh dear, he needed to have a man-to-man heart-to-heart conversation with Geralt because he needed to know what was going on. Was the Witcher gone for good?

Jaskier not only suspected but always knew Geralt was not a brainless-killing-machine that slept with whores and drank beer. That's what he did, most of the time, but that was for show. It had to be if he was behaving like _this_. Jaskier was again overthinking, and he busied himself cooking the leftovers of the chicken for dinner.

Jaskier was sitting outside, accompanied by the breeze that passed between the trees. Geralt came out and sat by him, without speaking for five minutes, until he did. “Everything's okay?”

Jaskier glanced at him puzzled. “Uh, thanks for asking. Not really”. He thought of leaving before Geralt tried to be weird again and ask why, but the Witcher was quicker. “Mmm?”

Jaskier shook his head and put it between her hands. “Okay, witcher. You caught me. This,” he said, reaching out to touch the wall of the house, “is weird. You are being weird.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, with a low, and was he hearing sincery?, voice.

“Ugh.” He stood up and walked in circles before the big man. “Are you seeing yourself? You... You are practically building a house for... for all of us! You are cooking! And talking to Ciri with such a sweet tone that it makes me wonder if you are really Geralt de Rivia or somebody killed him and took his body and you are going to kill us all in our sleep and take Ciri away and...”

Geralt looked down. The nuance of human relationships, huh.

“Jaskier, I never felt what I feel for Ciri before. She... Made it all different, and I want to make her less miserable. And as I do, I am becoming less miserable.” Jaskier knelt in front of Geralt.

“Are you being serious with me, Geralt?”

“You always thought I was going to continue killing monsters and you were always going to sing about it?”

“Kind of. Yeah.”

Geralt huffed a laugh. “I don't know what I will do when we run out of coin, right now I want her to feel safe.”

“I knew you had it in you, deeply deeply hidden, but somewhere, and somebody would take it out of you.”

“You are smart.”

“Yeah, I am. And I must say, as much as I'm a court animal, I appreciate a bit of domesticity.”

“I thought you'd get tired soon, but I wanted you around. Ciri likes you.”

“She likes me, but she loves you.”

“It's different, but we both like having you here.”

“You are being strangely amorous and sweet, are you really the Witcher I know?” He grinned.

“Don't be smug, I can still kill you with my left hand.”

“That's my Geralt.”

After a pause which they spent staring into each other, Jaskier spoke. “So... To be honest, I didn't mean all I said as if I didn't like this new version of you. I just need to get used to you being sweet and motherly to a little girl and not insulting me all the time.”

“I'm sorry.”

“That's... another strange thing.”

“Please, Jaskier.”

“Okay, I'll stop the passive-agressiveness. I'll go to bed.”

Geralt put a hand on his shoulder before he rose up. He mmmed. “I never meant to send you away. I enjoy you pestering me, following me and trying to cheer me out of my, what you call, brooding. I ask you to stay with me, Jaskier.”

Jaskier, for once, but again, was speechless. He bit his lip and chucked. “You are such a brute sometimes, it's part of the charm, Geralt. Just... Don't do it again.”

“Never,” he squeezed the bard's shoulder and walked away, leaving Jaskier with many more thoughts that before.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments if you liked it because I am easily unmotivated! My tumblr is euryalus.tumblr.com


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